


No Way To Say

by mirqueen



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Drama, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirqueen/pseuds/mirqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another boring gala for Oliver improves when Felicity arrives unexpectedly, but the news she’s holding back might do just the opposite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blue Eyes

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Arrow_. It belongs to The CW, DC Comics, etc.

A/N: So this just came to me out of the blue and I had to write it. Random drabbles cannot be denied. And of course, the “drabble” became a monster I had to split into two parts. [Outfits/Inspirations](http://hoodsmoaked.tumblr.com/post/65604180148/outfits-inspirations-from-no-way-to-say-parts-1) from both parts of the story.

> **Chapter 1: Blue Eyes**

Only twenty minutes into the evening, and it had already become one of those situations when Oliver wanted to either knock himself out for the night or shoot some well-placed arrows into a few bad guys’ non-vital body areas.

There was no surprise in the arrival of the Veterans Memorial Charity Gala, but as Oliver had gotten a strangely peaceful reprieve from crime-fighting action the past few weeks, he felt strongly inclined to boredom and malcontent. Especially when he was to face off at some point with Isabel, Laurel, Adam Donner, and Sebastian Blood all in the same tiring night. None of those foreseeable encounters left the resident vigilante feeling in any way relaxed.

Sighing resignedly as he spotted Isabel enter — wearing a tight chignon and yet  _another_  red dress, he noted — Oliver half-listened to one of the older department heads of Queen Consolidated prattling to him about the way things had changed for the worse in their community. Had he not been aware of his ever-precarious public image, Oliver might have snorted.

From across the room, Sebastian Blood spotted Isabel as well, and waved her over. Without hesitation, the dark-haired businesswoman headed towards her most recent ally, leaving Oliver a clear view of Laurel and Adam Donner as they entered the gala just afterward. Laurel’s curly updo and full-skirted violet gown matched her well, but Oliver didn’t see much that really stood out as amazingly beautiful. She looked about the same as always, and he found himself unaffected.

It was the type of observation (one of many, lately) that cemented his growing detachment from Laurel. When he couldn’t find enthusiasm for her beauty, he knew he didn’t love her like he thought. A man who loved her deeply would find her utterly attractive in anything from a gorgeous ball gown to a ratty old sweatshirt. That was no longer the case for Oliver — if it ever had been in the first place, which he doubted.

Another sigh — this one of relief — wound its way from Oliver’s throat when the lawyer duo headed towards his mother, and the billionaire took a tiny sip of champagne to hopefully ease the consistent frustration and restlessness he felt. Having Diggle there would have helped a bit, but the former soldier was stuck in bed with an unexpected bout of stomach flu that had claimed him the day before. Without his trusted bodyguard and friend, Oliver was left to scan the assembly of elites and public figures with a bland, unenthusiastic eye.

It wasn’t until another excruciating half-hour had passed that Oliver saw her — fluttering hesitantly just outside the main doorway to the room.

A vision in cornflower blue, with long simple curls and big blue eyes sparkling like crystals, Felicity Smoak did not escape his notice by a long shot.

Entranced by her simple loveliness, Oliver found a smile working its way onto his stiff, tired face.

Only half-turning towards the stale conversation he had barely listened to, Oliver said, “Excuse me” with a little more pep than before. His steps were swift and decided, no one stopping him when they noticed his single-minded determination.

Oliver noted Felicity’s wistful, reluctant gaze as being riveted to the sight of his mother and sister exchanging warm words with Laurel and cordial greetings with Adam Donner. Frowning a little, Oliver wondered what made her look so strangely down.

But when he reached her in the entry to the ballroom and noticed the blonde wringing her hands and biting her vibrantly pink lower lip, Oliver choked back his questions. Clearly it was not the moment for an interrogation.

"Felicity," he murmured, stopping one foot away from her.

The tech expert jumped slightly, whipping around to face Oliver with startled eyes, which looked somehow wider and more brilliantly blue in the lower lighting of the entry.

"You said you weren’t coming," the billionaire stated simply, lifting a brow in question.

"Um… I wasn’t," Felicity admitted somewhat bashfully. "But I… kind of needed some space. Some things have been… a little stifling today. And you did say the invitation lasted until the party was over. I figured you wouldn’t mind me bursting in on you …Not that I would be bursting in on you for anything bad. I mean, it’s not like you’d be in any way undressed… Ah, I didn’t mean to say that out loud! I mean, I never meant to say it in the first place! Totally not the meaning I was searching for. At all. You can just ignore me, really. Like…  _really_ , really. Why am I still talking?”

Feeling suddenly alive with Felicity babbling, gesturing, and making silly verbal slips, Oliver merely responded with a little smile, “I am happy to see you.”

Reminded of his sincere response on Lian Yu several months earlier, Felicity smiled, suddenly calm as the blush faded from her cheeks.

"Same," she commented blithely, her body relaxing to the point that she no longer wrung her hands or bit her lip. Oliver felt a little surge of victory at being able to do that for his friend.

They stood side by side in comfortable silence for a time, both looking out into the ballroom at the fluctuating crowd. Oliver allowed amazement to wash over him that this very action had been so terribly annoying just minutes before, but now as he stood beside Felicity, he felt content with the simplicity of it all.

"Where’s Barry?" Oliver wondered out the blue. The billionaire tried not to grimace at the thought of the forensics expert or his own atypical discomfort around the younger man, but it was odd. Barry should have been in the room by now, even if he had parked down the street in the backup lot.  "Is he sick?"

"No…" Felicity hesitated, returning to biting her lip with abrupt vengeance. Oliver frowned at the sight.

In spite of Barry’s constant trips between Starling and Central City, the relationship with Felicity had been good. Great, even, considering how happy Felicity had become since entering into it. Yet all was not right in paradise, it seemed.

"Are things… okay between the two of you?" Oliver asked concernedly, reaching out to settle a gentle hand on the shoulder exposed by Felicity’s sleeveless gown. Concerned discussions had become much more frequent for them since Barry had come into Felicity’s life, and Oliver prided himself on his increasingly natural ability to both open up and listen attentively where his brilliant friend was concerned.

"Yes, we’re okay," Felicity answered with false brightness, but the tension lining her shoulders and the dull ache in her eyes bespoke another answer — one she was not keen on divulging.

Opening his mouth to inquire a little deeper into the subject, and hopefully determine what disturbed his IT girl, Oliver was thwarted by the sound of his sister’s voice.

"Ollie, there you are!" a teal-clad Thea exclaimed with relief first, then instant excitement upon seeing her brother’s companion. "Felicity! I’m  _so_  happy you came! Love your dress, by the way, that color is perfect on you. Why didn’t I see you sooner?”

Out of all the people in his life from before the island, it was Thea who had become the most attached to Felicity over the past several months. The IT expert had no idea just how much Thea adored her for her honesty, individuality, and unique personality. Not to mention her ability to put Oliver in his place. Thea had only seen that happen once, but it had clearly stuck with her.

"Oh, thank you… I just got here," Felicity replied nervously. Thea had a way of making everyone nervous when she was excited, but Felicity more so for some reason. Oliver once asked why, but he had never gotten an answer out of her.

"Where’s Barry Allen? I thought he was your go-to guy for these things," Thea asked, blunt as ever, and Oliver bit back a groan. Sometimes it paid to be less blatant.

Felicity looked highly uncomfortable, worrying Oliver, but he stepped in to give her a reprieve from Thea’s probing.

"He’s not feeling so well," Oliver answered for Felicity, using his own assumption to put her off.

"Oh, I’m sorry," Thea immediately apologized to Felicity, although the keen expression she threw her big brother let him know she wasn’t sold. For the thousandth time in his post-island life, Oliver cursed his inability to lie in these awkward situations.

"I needed some air," Felicity offered in as offhanded a manner as she could manage. "You know, get out of the apartment for a while."

"Yeah, I know how that is," the younger Queen agreed with a nod and an indulgent smile. "Well, come on, Mom has been waiting to see you for an age, Ollie. You kept hiding in corners until Felicity got here. Lucky I checked the entrance."

"I was perfectly visible up by the stage before then," Oliver countered, forcefully reminding himself not to roll his eyes in public while he offered an arm to Felicity as a silent request. She took it without question, but avoided his gaze.

"Whatever," Thea waved him off, reaching to loop her arm through Felicity’s unoccupied one. "Come on, Mom and I need another person with some good sarcasm to battle Ms. Ice Sculpture and Mr. Mayor Wannabe."

"What?" Felicity asked confusedly, until she looked up the same as Oliver, catching sight of Blood and Isabel standing in discussion with Moira, Laurel, and Donner. Off to the side of the Queen matriarch in her black velvet gown stood Roy — the poor kid looked disgruntled, terrified, and irritated all at once in the unusual group.

"Ugh. Isn’t  _this_  a fun night?” Thea remarked disparagingly as the three of them walked out into the room as one and made their way towards the waiting sextet of unorthodox conversationalists.

Two hours, seventeen minutes, and a hoard of teeth-gritting barbs later, Oliver and Felicity had (between the two of them) consumed a total of five glasses of champagne. In spite of Thea wishing for Felicity’s wit in the group, neither the IT expert nor Oliver had spoken much of anything aside from the initial greetings. Laurel and Isabel had done most of the barb exchange, truthfully, and the competitive edge in both of their voices whenever Oliver himself was the topic did not sit well with him. If Felicity’s half-supportive, half-constricting grip on his arm was any indication, he was not the only one.

Thea had long-since disappeared with Roy in the direction of the exit. As much as Oliver didn’t want to imagine what they might be doing, he really couldn’t blame them for leaving in general. Moira had finally detached herself from the subtle yet intensive feud by playing off a headache and retreating to a table near the stage to prepare for the donation tallying at midnight. Oliver felt more at ease when he noticed Diggle’s personal choice in bodyguard standing just behind his mother.

Inhaling awkwardly as Isabel threw out a rather insipid remark in Laurel’s direction, Oliver finally decided he and Felicity needed to escape.

"Pardon me, ladies," he spoke firmly, doubting his own words for a moment and glad to see even Blood and Donner were waiting for an intervention. "I asked Felicity for a dance before the night ended, and it’s almost eleven-thirty already. Excuse us."

Not waiting for a response, Oliver led Felicity to the dance floor as quickly as decorum allowed and pulled her into an easy hold. They had danced enough at these events since becoming CEO and EA that it was as natural as breathing.  

"Oh, thank God," Felicity murmured, exhaling in a rush as they began to sway in time with the mild music coming from the quartet. "I thought we’d never get away from them. What is it with your old flames, anyway? They’re more competitive than professional football."

Oliver hastily withheld a snort and ending up coughing instead, his eyes glittering with amusement. Felicity blushed heavily, but the humor in her eyes could not be hidden.

When he caught his breath, Oliver redirected the conversation with ease, “I don’t even want to  _think_  about that terrible conversation right now. Let’s just enjoy a few moments of peace, hm?”

"Oh, no," Felicity whispered with distressed eyes, glancing over Oliver’s shoulder apprehensively. "Rochev is searching the room. And she doesn’t look happy."

Spinning them just enough to give himself a peripheral view of the direction Felicity was staring, Oliver couldn’t help but agree with her.

* * *

 


	2. Pink Champagne

Disclaimer: I do not own nor make any profit off of _Arrow_ or _The Flash_ , which belong to The CW, DC Comics, etc.

A/N: So this just came to me out of the blue and I had to write it. Random drabbles cannot be denied. And of course, the “drabble” became a monster I had to split into two parts. [Outfits/Inspirations](http://hoodsmoaked.tumblr.com/post/65604180148/outfits-inspirations-from-no-way-to-say-parts-1) from both parts of the story.

Here we are, onto the conclusion. It's a little OOC, but manageable, I believe.

> **Chapter 2: Pink Champagne**

Wary of getting caught by the co-owner of Queen Consolidated and enduring more frustrating taunts and barbs, Oliver rapidly pulled Felicity away from the dance floor, ever keeping an eye on Isabel’s position. He did, however, have a brief lucky moment to snag the nearest bottle of wine, a corkscrew, and two glasses on their way past the shimmering table of drinks.

Only once standing on the immense wraparound balcony did both of them let out a breath of relief. Around the corner of the balcony, the windows were covered floor-to-ceiling inside with a backdrop of velvet drapery — so as to frame the speakers and main benefactors of the event.

"I think we’ve had quite enough for one night," Oliver sighed, letting his shoulders drop a bit as he sunk into a chair at the closest table and uncorked their wine.

"It was bound to happen, I guess," Felicity laughed a bit uncomfortably, settling into the chair opposite with stiff movements. Her eyes never quite met his.

Looking over at her shrewdly, Oliver dispensed with tact and put his question out in the open, “What’s wrong, Felicity?”

Startled into glancing his way, the blonde winced at the knowing expression on Oliver’s face.

"It’s nothing, really," she dismissed his worry, shrugging one shoulder.

"Translation? It’s something pretty big, but you know I won’t like it," Oliver persisted, having learned the nuances of Felicity’s responses. "And judging by the way this ‘something’ is making you behave right now, I have to agree."

"Oliver—" Felicity attempted to cut him off, but he stopped her immediately.

"I know there’s something very wrong," he cut in, giving her  _the_  look. “I won’t stop worrying just because you say it’s nothing. You know how this works just as well as I do.”

Remaining silent, Felicity directed her gaze away from him once again, staring out into the glittering city. Heaving a tired sigh, Oliver allowed her a moment to regroup while he poured them a glass each of what turned out to be pink champagne.

"Should have read the label," Oliver muttered, brow lifted ironically. He’d only gone for wine because they’d had too much champagne that night as it was. And he’d already suspected they might need it, if Felicity’s news was as uncomfortable as it seemed.

Quiet giggles brought Oliver’s attention back up to his partner-in-crime, finding her sincerely amused by his mistake.

"Oh well," she said, shrugging and lifting a hand to accept her glass. Given a moment to actually observe, Oliver noticed the pink of her nails matched her lips, except for the one silver nail that looked paint-splotched with blue. "I’ll take what I can get."

Giving Felicity an exasperated look, Oliver released the glass to her care and took up his own.

"To avoiding barbed conflicts… at least when attending charity galas," Oliver said with a smirk.

"I’ll drink to that," Felicity laughed lightly, a tiny bit more at ease than a moment prior.

Just when Oliver worked up the nerve to inquire further about what bothered his blonde partner, Felicity stood from the table, champagne in hand. Silver heels peeking out from beneath her gown with each step, she made for the balcony railing with tension clear in her posture, staring at the cityscape as though she might never see it again.

Debating between her obvious desire to stay silent and his own need to know what troubled her, Oliver eventually gave up and went to her side at the balcony railing.

"Felicity," he began gently, moving a tentative hand to her back. "I hate seeing you like this. Please tell me what’s bothering you."

A forlorn sigh escaped her, and for a long moment Oliver thought she was going to ignore him.

"Barry is moving back to Central City," she confessed stiffly, awkwardly, trying to look unaffected. But Oliver saw through it.

"I’m sorry," was all he could think to say, still feeling like he was missing something. Felicity’s posture did not relax upon revealing her secret, which was unusual for her. Even if the secret was painful, being able to share it tended to loosen the IT expert’s stiffness.

Drawing a long, slow breath, Felicity seemed to shrink before him, almost shying away from his hand. Confused, he could not think what he had done wrong, until she spoke again, voice strained.

"He asked me to go with him."

Had he been any less attuned to the sound of that familiar voice, Oliver would have sworn he misheard. But he could feel and hear the clarity and truth in Felicity’s words.

Unconsciously pulling back, Oliver tried in vain to imagine Felicity so far away. Gazing at the multitude of buildings and vehicles so far below, yet seeing nothing, he thought of all the ways — tiny and not — that Felicity had become integral to life in Starling City. He thought of all the people who would miss her and wonder what to do without the unique place she always carved out in people’s hearts for herself.

Diggle, Thea, Moira, Walter, Roy, Sara, Sin, Quentin… Even Raisa, Laurel, Carly, and A.J. There were more — many more — who didn’t even know her, but their lives had or might have been touched by Felicity in some way. Because she was a silent hero. The kind that didn’t get out on the front lines and garner recognition by the citizens she’d saved. She was the one who stepped up every time she was called to, but could never show her heroic deeds to the world. But even in her silence, she would be missed.

There was no way around the admission Oliver allowed himself next.

Because _he_  would miss her, too. Her smiles, her laughter, her silly Freudian slips, her babbling soliloquies… He would never hear the click of her heels on the metal stairs in the foundry or on the smooth, waxed floors at the office. The sound of her fingers clicking away on the keyboard had become a strangely melodic backdrop to his training sessions. The subtle gazes when his shirt was absent became a source of trivial amusement and mutual teasing. He would never hear her snide comments about fetching coffee or scheduling appointments. He would miss her when she stood up to him, glaring him dead in the eye and making him realize truths he would rather have not examined.

"Oliver," she whispered cautiously from his side, and he realized his eyes had somehow closed without his knowledge.

"Do you want to?" Oliver asked, his voice deeper and rougher than expected.

It took Felicity a moment to respond, but he heard her shaky inhale clearer than if she’d shouted to the sky.

She  _wanted_  to go.

She wanted to, but she didn’t know how to leave their cause, their team, and everything they’d been working for. Didn’t know how to leave Queen Consolidated empty of her technical expertise or her increasingly positive authority.

Barry had been a chance meeting, a serendipitous encounter. As much as Felicity believed in their nightly mission, in saving the company and the city… she wanted the happiness that had so unexpectedly crashed into her life. How could Oliver even  _attempt_  to deny her that?

Breathing deeply, the billionaire forced himself to a less desperate state and opened his eyes to the world around him. Turning down to look at his constant companion, his trusted adviser, and his beautiful best friend, Oliver thought of how happy she had been since meeting Barry. How completely alive she had become, and how much more she  _lived_  now — beyond the walls of the foundry or Queen Consolidated. She was vibrant in her simple joy.

Oliver knew what he had to do. As much as it would hurt, he knew it had to be done.

"Felicity, I…" Oliver began to speak, caught off guard by his abrupt attempt to comfort her when he was hurting so much himself. Shaking away the surprise, he reached out to grasp her hands and continued as calmly as he was able, "I don’t want you to think I’m patronizing you or being a complete chauvinist. And I’m not arrogant enough to think you need my permission, but I… I want you to know what I feel."

It took a moment to gather courage, a small pause for breath as he prepared himself to let go of the best thing that ever happened to him.

"If Barry makes you truly happy," he whispered, commanding the pain to desert his voice and eyes, and leave him with only strength and determination, "…then you should go with him."

Felicity seemed startled, a little confused, and Oliver hurried to explain further. He wasn’t doing this out of spite; he wasn’t doing this for himself. For once, he was thinking of someone else first, no matter how it tore at him to do it.

"I want that for you…" Oliver said softly, daring to reach up and pull a lock of soft, curled blond hair behind his partner’s delicate ear. "I want you to be happy; I want you to be able to live up to your name. Felicity."

Oliver tried to smile, but he knew it came off more bittersweet than he wanted it to. It was so impossible to imagine Felicity gone, but if she was happy he would bear it. For her, he would bear any burden. How strange he had only come to that realization at the end of their journey together.

Memorizing her lovely frozen face one more time, Oliver turned to go. He couldn’t bear to look at her any longer; his pain waiting for an escape. The foundry would be empty. And so would Oliver.

But where Felicity’s fingers had been slipping from his grasp, they tightened with sudden ferociousness.

"No," she said simply, firm despite the tremor in her voice. Stunned, Oliver turned to catch the glint in those blue eyes.

"What do you mean?" he asked, trying to hold onto himself in the swirl of loss already encroaching on his mind.

"After all you said…" she whispered, tears filling her crystal eyes. "You… you idiot! You stupid, idiotic, half-witted, foolish…  _noble_  man!”

Blinking in confusion, Oliver tried to understand what was going on. “Felicity…?”

"You can’t do that!" she gasped out, plainly forcing back her tears. "You can’t be my hero like that and then expect me to leave you!"

Snapping back in shock, Oliver reached out to grasp Felicity by the shoulders. “What are you talking about? You said… But you want to go with Barry!”

"I did want to," she cried, closing her eyes momentarily as if in pain. "I thought he was my one shot. My one chance to be really happy. And I almost told him yes. But then I tried to imagine myself living apart from you, from my work, from our mission. From this city and all I’ve been working towards. I told him I couldn’t choose yet. He… he let me go. He told me he would be waiting for my call one way or the other… And I had to leave. I just had to come and participate in something that is solely you. Something outside that hood and Queen Consolidated. To see how I fit into it all."

Oliver suddenly understood the look on Felicity’s face. The expression of wistfulness as she watched Laurel interact with his family.

"I wanted to sweep in," she went on breathlessly, gripping his hands fiercely, "to just come right up to you like I’ve been doing since we brought you back here. Overstepping the personal boundaries you and I had unconsciously set up last year… But I realized I wanted to be found. To find if I meant enough to be seen before I introduced myself to the moment. Then you came to me. And I knew it wasn’t just a fluke of my imagination that you cared. But I convinced myself that if you didn’t fight to keep me here, I was going to go."

Oliver wilted at the qualification of her leaving, knowing he had far surpassed a non-fighting stance.

"But I  _can’t_  go, Oliver,” Felicity whispered again, squeezing his hands. “You didn’t fight for me in the way I imagined. This way was so much better. Because you really cared about what I felt and what I needed. That means so much to me, Oliver. You have no idea how much.” 

"I would miss you," Oliver confessed without any prior expectation of doing so. "I would miss you so badly I couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t function properly."

"I know," she smiled weakly at him, brushing a hand against his cheek. "I would miss you just as badly, Oliver."

"It’s not just me you would miss," he countered, holding her soft hand against his face. "Your life is more than just the sum of our interactions. That’s what I like about you. You don’t devote yourself to the idea of me. You’re there for me, but you have your own mind, your own goals."

So saying, Oliver pulled Felicity closer, wrapping his free arm around her back to hold her near.

"You’re a person of your own," he murmured affectionately, looking down into her blue eyes admiringly. "It’s what made me trust you that day we met. Because you never tell me something just because it’s what I want to hear. It’s genuine.  _You_  are genuine. And I don’t think I could truly survive it if I lost that… If I lost you.”

"I swear, Oliver," Felicity responded gently, brushing tender fingers through his hair, "as long as I can still see the hero in your heart… I will never leave you."

Oliver’s chest expanded with a warmth he hadn’t felt in years, if ever, and he couldn’t withhold a wide, warm smile for his girl.

"Never leave me," he countered, pouring all of his trust and love into one look, "and the hero will never die."

* * *

 


End file.
